Modern Romantic Fiction
by The Paperback Righter
Summary: One-shot. Abed finds Britta alone in his apartment and tries to find out why she's there.


Abed frowned.  
There was someone in the apartment. He wasn't sure how he knew - the door had been locked, everything was where he had left it when he'd gone out half an hour earlier (right down to the milk carton slowly pouring its remaining contents onto the kitchen counter, which he would definitely have to clear up before Annie got back) - but something told him that there was someone there, somewhere. Instinctively, he held out his hands as if he had a gun (his ChapStick would have to fill in for the moment) and advanced slowly into the main room. There was a rustling sound from the direction of Troy's bedroom, and in a moment he had crossed the room and was pressed against the wall, his ear to the door. He took a quick breath before turning the handle and pushing the door open.  
"Abed!"  
He was greeted by the sight of a panicked Britta standing by Troy's bed, her arms wrapped around her body and clutching at the dark overcoat she was wearing. Abed let his hands fall to his sides and tilted his head a little.  
"Britta. What are you doing here?"  
"What are _you _doing here?" she shot back.  
"I live here."  
"Yeah, but I thought you had that... thing."  
Abed nodded.  
"The cast of Cougar Town is doing a Q&A in Greendale today. I came back to get my boxset for them to sign."  
Britta nodded, her face unreadable to him.  
"Well, you'd better go get it then!" she said. Abed nodded again.  
"Probably. But you didn't answer my question."  
"Nno," she replied slowly. "I didn't do that at all."  
Abed continued to stare at her in silence.  
"My bad?" she said uncertainly. Abed frowned.  
"So what _are_ you doing here?"  
"Well, you know... stuff." She waved one hand airily, keeping the other tightly clenched over the coat. Abed glanced down and looked back at her face.  
"You don't usually wear that coat."  
"I was... cold."  
Abed glanced down again.  
"But you're barefoot. And your legs are bare too."  
Britta looked down at her own legs and shrugged, as if she hadn't realised.  
"That's probably why I was cold," she suggested with an awkward smile. Abed nodded.  
"Probably. What's that on the bed?"  
Britta's eyes widened a little and she half-turned her head to follow his gaze to the strip of black leather sticking out from under the bedclothes. She shook her head slightly.  
"That's nothing. Why would it be anything? It's probably just nothing. You should really get back to your Puma Town thing before it finishes."  
Abed reached past her and grabbed at the leather, pulling it off of the bed to examine it. He frowned once again and looked back at Britta.  
"It's a whip," he said. Her face twisted.  
"Is it?" she asked, her voice increasing in pitch. Abed nodded.  
"Troy doesn't own a whip," he said. "And it's not mine. Mine's an Indiana Jones whip."  
"Exactly!" she shouted suddenly, cutting herself off. She took a quick breath.  
"That's why I'm here," she said, slightly more calm than before. "Because I bought this as a present for a friend, because he likes Indiana Jones, and so I thought he might like to get a whip like that as a present, so I bought it, but then I wasn't sure if it was right, so I came here to see if it was the same as yours, because I knew you had one that was like the one in the film."  
Her words tumbled out of her mouth in one go, and she seemed a little out of breath by the end. Abed shook his head and held it out to her.  
"It's not at all the same. You should try to get a refund if they advertised it as being an Indy whip."  
"I... will do that," Britta said, taking the whip and throwing it back on the bed in one movement, before wrapping her arm around her body again. Abed looked at her.  
"How did you get in?"  
"I... what?"  
"The door was locked, and you don't have a key. How did you get in?"  
Britta's mouth hung open slightly.  
"Troy... let me in."  
"Troy's not here though."  
"...no, he's not."  
"Where is he?"  
Britta's mouth hung open again before she responded.  
"Out?"  
Abed shrugged and turned to leave the room.  
"I'll call him and see where he is."  
"No!"  
He turned back around at Britta's shout and looked at her questioningly.  
"Because," she continued slowly. "I will call him. Because I'm his girlfriend, and I can do that."  
Abed nodded and waited. Her face fell slightly and she reached one hand behind her to pick up her cell phone from the bedside table. Her fingers moved gradually over the buttons and she held the phone to her ear.  
"Hi, Troy, it's Britta," she said. "I was just wondering where you are."  
There was a pause.  
"You're hanging out with Jeff? That's good. Also, I thought I should tell you that the whip wasn't an Indiana Jones whip, so thanks for letting me into your apartment to check."  
"Can you get Jeff on the line?" Abed interjected. "I want to ask him about that barber shop he goes to."  
Britta's face froze for a moment.  
"Can you put Jeff on?" she asked slowly. There was a pause.  
"You just left? And Jeff can't here you knocking because he's put music on? Oh, darn."  
She shrugged to Abed.  
"I guess we timed that pretty badly."  
"No problem," Abed replied.  
"Ok, Troy, I'll talk to you later," Britta said. Abed held up a finger.  
"Can you remind him that he's meeting me for lunch today?"  
For some reason, Britta's hand was turning white where she was holding the phone.  
"You didn't tell me you were meeting Abed for lunch!" she said, her voice increasing in pitch once again. "But apparently you are, so don't forget about that!"  
She pushed a button and threw the phone onto the bed, then took a long, slow breath.  
"Feel free to get back to your signing event," she said. "I'll see myself out after I've finished in here. I've just got to... clean up a bit."  
Abed glanced back down at her bare legs, then back up at the overcoat. He nodded and turned to leave the room.  
"I'll be in the fort if you need me."  
He paused at the door and turned back.  
"I'll probably be some time, though. And I'll be listening to loud music, so I probably won't notice what's going on in the rest of the apartment. So don't worry if your cleaning up ends up being noisier than usual."


End file.
